Cries of Namárië
by SighingWinter
Summary: The Second Age of Arda is war torn and constantly, those of the light and those of the darkness are at war to defend Middle Earth and rid the world of Sauron forever.When a strange figure lends her aide to the cause and helps that final battle the elves sing her praises even as they mourn her death.Now she has returned and complete her missions and regain a lost love. OC/Thranduil
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone and welcome to a mini-story of times long past. I bring to your eyes the tale of The Second Age of Arda! Wahooo!

As usual I must add a disclaimer to with I place no type of ownership on the creations of the Tolkien family and J.R.R Tolkien in particular. I am of course endebted to him for comming up with something so very brilliant.

**NOTICE: This is just the first chapter as a preivew. I would like either messages or reviews indicateing your opinions on whether or not to continue the story. **

As always Enjoy and R and R please!

-SighingWinter

* * *

**_Cries of Namárië_**

_"Go into the wilderness on a clear night and look up._

_Look long. Then you will have seen something of Faerie"_

_Cecilia Dart-Thornton, The Lady of the Sorrows_

* * *

Aoibheal, Queen of the Seelie paced her private chambers with quick strides, her expression one of dangerous calm as her iridescent eyes flashed with anger and her magic collected around her; even the guards on the other side of the door leading to the chamber shuddered at the power that the Queen gathered as her anger grew with each trek across her grand chamber. For once nothing could garner the fae's attention away from thoughts that stirred in her mind- not the gilded mirror, nor the blossoming flower out on her balcony, or the vague scent for her most recent lover. Even the usually delightful sound of her gossamer gown as it brushed over white marbled floors did nothing to settle the fury that raked her mind. How dare that fae think that she knew better than her elders- than her own _Queen. _Aoibheal had been generous with that child for far too long, it was time that she learned her place! But how- even if she had the support of the entire Court, Aoibheal knew that the child's punishment would lose her some key allies amongst her people- for whether she like it or not, that girl's thoughts and her words had captured fae who had similar ideas.

A sneer made its way across the Queen's face as she recalled the girl's words, _We are powerful, she had cried her voice full of passion, why should we- why should I have to stand by and do nothing when the darkness grows too high? Why should we not defend those who are powerless against the dark? Why should we not engage an enemy that is likely to endanger our own people if we wait too long? _ In her mind Aoibheal saw some of the supporters nod their heads, their eyes keen on the one who so passionately spoke for the weak races of a land known as Arda. Sharp teeth snapped together in frustration. How dare that girl! Rapidly she paced from one end of her grand chamber to the other, far too aware of truth. She needed a way to punish the girl without losing support. She needed to show to her people that her tolerance of such open, almost human-like displays of opinion would not be tolerated, at least not so informally!

Did the child think her blind to all that happened in the world beyond their own? Did that girl not think that Aoibheal was aware of the darkness that was slowly circling that dreadful land, ever tightening its grasp as hope rose and fell with the weak hearts of Man? Indeed Aoibheal had both sensed and done her best to keep that darkness from leaking outside of that worthless world- and thus far she had been successful. Aoibheal tortured the floors of her austere chamber for many moments longer as her thoughts rapidly went from one point to the next, creating plans only to destroy them within seconds. There were too many flaws! If only that chi- Aoibheal stopped mid pace as her mind slowed for a moment. Yes- that was it! A slow smile worked onto the face of the Seelie Queen of Light, turning her beautiful face into a vision that exceeded any describable beauty.

It was almost as though a wind blew and with it went the gathered magic and any open appearance of her anger. Aoibheal glided over to her closet, where within held entrapped her most extravagant and the loveliest of all her dresses. While there were only three to choose from Aoibheal needed no time in choosing the gown that she desired. Laying the dress across her large bed, the Queen called for her main servant and quickly dispensed her orders. The fae nodded, bowed, and exited to do her bidding.

Soon it would all be taken care of, and the girl would be nothing more than a distant irritation.

* * *

** Chapter One- New Lands and a New Home**

**Second Age-C.3420**

A bright flashing light tore through the weeping sky, roaring as it split both earth and sky. The earth shook and shuddered as the flash collided with rock and stone. As suddenly as it appeared the light was gone and all that remained was blackened earth and upon it a small figure. For many long moments there was a silence that was charged with fear tinged- anticipation. A soft murmur that grew to a groan as the figure turned over and slowly sat up. Dark eyes, full of age and sorrow watched in wariness as the figure slowly raised itself to its full height and let out a cry that pierced the air. Known for beauty, strength, keen eye and ears the watcher gazed in utter shock as he saw that the figure was human and most certainly not male. Her hair was unusually short, just beneath the shoulder and the color for fresh earth. The cry abruptly halted and the woman, a human, whirled around and fixed her gaze upon the area of the woods in which the watcher crouched hidden. Gil-Galad tensed as he saw bright eyes, the color of the twilight sky focus on his hiding place, almost as though the human knew he and his patrol watched.

The woman looked about herself, clearly unabashed by her nudity and then reached down to grasp a sturdy branch. Gil-Galad smirked and vague snickers reached his elf ears, he would give the woman acknowledgement for her bravery- however foolish it may have been in such darkened times. Slowly he stood, signaling to his men to remain hidden, before slowly stepping out of hiding. The woman's gaze lingered on him for long moments before casting about the area once more, and the High-King's estimation of this unknown woman rose as he realized that she knew that he was not the sole being that hid within the protective boughs of the trees.

Addressing her in the Common Tongue, the High-King of the Noldor asked the strange woman her name and her origin. It was common knowledge that although the race of Men had agreed to meet and discuss an alliance with the elves, however it was also common knowledge of the Eldar that the race of Men was weak and would just as easily turn their backs on allies if a better and far more favorable offer was made- they had done time and time again in the many years since their awakening.

"I am called Anarriel." The woman's voice was musical, similar to the soothing sounds of soft chimes disturbed by a soft springe breeze. "I am beholden to none as I have traveled many leagues from my homeland."

Gil-Galad gazed at the woman and realized that now that he was closer she was neither human nor of the elven kind. Her solid gaze gleamed with keen sight and a knowledge that was far more ancient than even his own. Her body was perfect, was gentle curves that were neither too large nor small, rather just right for her lithe figure- but what made her so different was not just the physical perfection; it was in the way that she carried herself, oozing sexuality. Gil-Galad sensed no lies in her, and with the faint trace of magic around her being her understood, as most elves do without needing explanations that this stranger would be of no harm to his people. Placing the tip of his spear in the dirt Gil-Galad watched as her eyes looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, while he unfasten his cloak and held it out to her.

Now that the original danger had passed the elf could feel the tip of his ears burn in embarrassment, "To cover you- it is indecent for any lady to be without clothing."

Twilight eyes gazed at the Noldorian King for many long moments before a small smile softened her features. A slender hand reached out and gently took the cloak, with quiet thanks. She was small compared to elf-kind and the cloak turned into a makeshift robe quite easily. Gil-Galad waited politely for the woman to finish before walking away. As if expecting this, the woman followed her footsteps he noted were only slightly heavier than an elf's and much lighter than that of humankind. How odd this creature was, he mused, as he led her in silence. As they passed, slowly the rest of his soldiers appeared and took their positions around the woman and beside their king.

And thus the years past, dark days ever growing darker as Sauron strengthened his hold upon Middle Earth and its people. Anarriel showed herself to be a quick learner and easily mastered the most common tongues spoken in the west as well as growing quite proficient with the bow and arrow, and although she could wield a sword well enough, her true skill lay within the discipline of knife fighting. It was commonly used by the elves of Greenwood, as due to the frequent number of messengers and soldiers of the elven realms who journeyed to Imladris, she was quite fortunate to be rarely without a teacher. Beneath all that though lay a heart full of a closely caged desire for peace. Anarriel had known war for a very long time, for her own kind was constantly battling the UnSeelie and their darkness, and for much of her long life she had fought. It pained the woman to have never known peace as the elves had once known upon the shores of Valinor, and thus she longed for it. However, no matter how great her longing the fae knew that the peace she so longed for would never reach this land unless the Dark Lord Sauron was defeated. Anarriel grimaced to herself as she gazed up at the night sky, with what few powers Aoibheal had left with her the woman knew she could not end this long war on her own. For many of the past years she had wondered why it was that the Queen had done nothing to protect those who could not protect themselves, to use their powers to help save people rather than destroy them.

One winter's night something changed and as suddenly as she appeared Anarriel disappeared. The elf lords Elrond and Gil-Galad searched and called for the other Lords that she had grown close to- to search as well. Celeborn, Galadriel and well as King Oropher and his son Thranduil searched for many months but it was as though she had never existed. Years passed and the search ended for more were needed for battle.

A Last Alliance of Men and Elves set out from Rivendell and marched through the west towards Mordor and the tower of Barad-Dur and in the year 3,434 the siege began. It lasted for seven long years and brought many deaths to all races. For a time they held out, laying siege to the great tower and successfully pushing back attack after attack, slowly gaining ground against the dark forces. On the eve of the final battle there came a loud call and from the back of the Alliance's ranks their came a great host, led by a woman with whom all the leaders were familiar. Anarriel on the back of a fierce stallion led charge after charge, breaking the ill formed ranks of orc and goblin. Each warrior that followed in her wake looked savage and almost as frightful as the forces of darkness, but in a beautiful way. Many survivors recalled that they were as frightening as they were beautiful, which indeed must have been terrible for those that followed in each charge were fae- fae who had been exiled from their home never to be permitted to return. But even their power waned.

In the last months of the siege her people fell until all but a few lay dead. Those that had survived waited 'til the last, fighting with everything that they possessed. It was thanks to their courage and sacrifice that many of the leaders of both elven kind and men survived. Unfortunately some could not be saved. By the time the Dark Lord Sauron's body was destroyed the number of death was high.

Gil-Galad was but one. As he lay dying, a weeping Elrond beside him he uttered words that none save his dearest friend and ally heard, words that were not to be heard until many years passed.

Anarriel was another. In a desperate moment she had cast herself in front of the path of a poisoned arrow that was intended for the heart of the King of Greenwood. It was as she lay on the ground held in familiar arms, that Sauron was destroyed and sunlight broke through the darkened clouds that had long hung over the wasteland of Mordor. Twilight eyes warmed and a smile stretched slowly across her face. "At last…peace…"

Thus the Third Age began.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone and welcome to a mini-story of times long past. I bring to your eyes the tale of The Second Age of Arda! Wahooo!

As usual I must add a disclaimer to with I place no type of ownership on the creations of the Tolkien family and J.R.R Tolkien in particular. I am of course endebted to him for comming up with something so very brilliant.

**NOTICE: This is just the first chapter as a preivew. I would like either messages or reviews indicateing your opinions on whether or not to continue the story. **

As always Enjoy and R and R please!

-SighingWinter

* * *

**_Cries of Namárië_**

_"Go into the wilderness on a clear night and look up._

_Look long. Then you will have seen something of Faerie"_

_Cecilia Dart-Thornton, The Lady of the Sorrows_

* * *

**Chapter Two- Return to Arda**

**Third Age- C.50**

It had been many years since the passing of Isildur and as the memories of the Ring faded, peace reigned in the world. The city of Imladris flourished and Middle Earth steadily renewed the lands, veiling the scars of the war and giving birth to new lives that were untouched by the darkness. Lord Elrond Peredhel of Imladris and ring-bearer of Vilya, wandered through the halls of the elven city, silently taking in the peace of the waters and trees and the light laughter of his fellow elves. Dark eyes gazed up at the stars and silently missed the brightness that they had once had back in the First Age- before Morgoth stepped through the veil and began to nurture the shadows. In quiet moments like this the Peredhel found that he missed his twin brother, Elros, and longed to return to the white shores of Valinor- but he knew that his presence would be needed in the years to come, despite the peace that now layered Arda. For him and many other of his kind the half century that had passed had done little if anything to heal the ravages of Sauron. Indeed what is a mere fifty years to beings that could live for eternity? Now more than ever Elrond longed for the familiar companionship of Gil-Galad or Anarriel, both of whom had managed to heal frayed parts of his heart. They were the two who had joined together to encourage him to court Celebrian even as the war grew to new heights. The elven lord sighed, indeed they had been able to lighten and support the hearts of many during the war.

Slow strides carried the warrior silently down white stairs and into an enclosed garden space, where he walked on the grass, leaving no trace of his passage upon the ground. It was not as though the Lord did not have friends, indeed Glorfindel and Erestor were held close to his heart, but they could not replace what he had lost. They had had- the three of them- an understanding of one another that had created such a deep bond between them, and though they loved others Anarriel and Gil-Galad had often been beside him when he needed them most. Stopping before a familiar tree Elrond reached out and place his hand upon the bark of the willow and closed his eyes recalling evenings spent by this very tree and the hope they had shared to see peace and better days.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck rose and the all too familiar sense of danger pervaded every sense within his body. The elf had little time to wonder why his ring did not warn him of a stranger crossing the borders before the sense of danger expanded and surrounded the entirety of the garden. With a silent curse for not being more armed, the elf whirled around drawing the dagger from his belt only to find it gone within the next moment.

"Did you truly think that that blade would have done me any harm elf?" The voice that addressed him was cold and dispassionate, as though its owner looked down upon him. Elrond, quickly recovering himself stood tall and proud facing the direction of the voice's origin with an emotionless mask, refusing to answer.

A laugh, the sound of tinkling bells, danced through the air. It was not a laugh that was mirthful but rather an empty laugh that was underlined with a faint trace of arrogance. Maintaining his façade of emptiness the elf-lord watched as a woman stepped away from the shadows. She was bathed in glamour to such a point that she was almost impossible to look at, so beautiful was she. It was a shimmering brightness, like a thousand day stars compounded onto her dress and being. Pure power thrummed through the air, calling out with a loud hum a fanfare for the impossibly ancient entity. Her visage was indistinct save for iridescent eyes that glimmered brightly as they took in the form of the lord she stood before.

"I am surprised," her bell-like voice was dry, a desert wind upon a wasteland, and "though I know I should not be. That that child chose to place her trust in you and your… people- well a great risk was it not."

Elrond could feel his eyes narrow at her words; the distinct feeling of belittlement upon his kin was too strong to resist. "And who do I have the honor of speaking to? Are you so frightened for my people that you must drown my home in glamour?"

The eyes narrowed and immediately the glamour dropped revealing a woman of chilling perfection, bearing such a strong resemblance to Anarriel that he nearly gasped. Were it not for the length of color of her hair and the eyes, the woman would have been a twin. "You are very brave, for all your foolish words. I am Aoibheal and I came bearing a gift, it is too much of a nuisance for me to deal with yet again."

It was then as she stepped closer until they were a mere arm's length apart that Elrond's gaze lay upon the bundle that had been shielded by the glamour. She held it out and without a thought, his arms moved on their own, taking the surprisingly heavy red cloth.

"You had best take care of it." Aoibheal stepped back and turned into the shadows, but with one last call over her shoulder she said, "Oh- and give it a different name!" The woman disappeared and was lost. The elf-lord stood there for some time silent in appalled shock, only to then stiffen in surprise when the red cloth in his arms wiggled. With a swift intake of breath Elrond slid the cloth away, wondering what the strange woman had left him with. On glimpsing a small hand the elf of great age and wisdom nearly dropped the whole thing when his grey eyes beheld what lived within.

An elfling, young, perhaps no more than a few months in age wiggled in the unusual red cloth. The elf's hair was an odd color, one that was neither completely dark nor light. It was so tiny, never before had he held such a small elven creature, not even when he had aided ladies in birth before Sauron. Slipping into Silvan tongue Elrond quietly addressed the little life he held.

"Where have you come from little one?" As if beckoned by its language the elfling opened large eyes and once more Elrond nearly dropped the child, for he knew those eyes. Eyes that had captured the color of the sky as the sun rose, eyes the held trapped within them the twilight for new days. They were the eyes that had shared laughter and sorrow, eyes that had seen the worst of war and the best of life.

_"…give it a different name!"_ Elrond warmly smiled, for the first time outside of Celebrian's company. The infant in his arms smiled in reply, letting out a wet giggle as her large eyes looked up at him with innocence.

"Welcome back to Imladris, Neyanna."

Being certain to carry the girl elfling gently, Elrond turned away from the darkness of the garden and walked back to the Hall of Fire, still smiling down at the being he cradled in his arms. The gathered elves all stopped what they were doing, faces all depicting shock upon seeing their Lord with a child in his arms- a child that none had heard of.

"My friends," The Lord said, his voice filled with true warmth as he looked away from the elfling to the gathering of his House, "I'd like to present to all a new member to my household, one whom you are both familiar and unfamiliar with. I would like to present Anarriel- come back to us as an elfling who I have named Neyanna."

The cries of shock and surprise were quickly followed by great cheers as the elves flocked around their lord, respect momentarily forgotten in eagerness to witness the coming of the first child to Imladris since the end of Sauron. Large eyes gazed at the elves that would make up her extended family for all her days. The last to gather were Elrond's most trusted advisor and seneschal, Erestor and Glorfindel. As they gently urged the joyous elves out of the room Elrond sat in his usual chair, holding the baby as he softly murmured low lyrics of an olden song his mother had sung to him many ages past. Erestor walked up on his left, rolling his eyes as the cries and ruckus grew louder once the elves began to celebrate new life.

"You do realize that you have stopped anything productive being done for at least a fortnight." Erestor's voice was dry much like the papers he tended, though the soft smile he wore eased the words passing and the following laugh led away any traces of ill thought. The Noldorian scribe looked down at the child, curiosity evident in his dark gaze. He had only briefly met and spoke with Anarriel in the Second Age, and recalled being impressed by her keen mind though a little frightened by the ancient gaze that had made him feel like a bumbling elfling just old enough to hold a quill.

"Indeed those are her eyes, though I wonder Elrond how it is that the child came to you."

Elrond explained the circumstances, leaving out his feelings on the whole matter and his reasons for leaving the Hall of Fire to begin with, though both seneschal and advisor knew that it was their Lord's way of silently grieving without causing worry to his people.

A laugh filled with light pranced across the room as Glorfindel walked away from his temporary post on the balcony to walk over and stand on Elrond's right as he looked down at the child. As he leaned over his friend's shoulder a long lock of golden hair slid forwards and onto the child's face. Laiste giggle quite happily and grabbed the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower's hair tugging on the strands, and yet another light laugh was jerked from the balrog slayer as he bent his head a little more, "Whatever you two say, little Neyanna has a strong grip." Laughter and great warmth descended on Rivendell, that evening and many days and nights following.

Messengers were obliged to reluctantly quit the parties of the Last Homely House East of the Sea in order to take written messages to the great Elf-lords and ladies of the elvish lands. Though the idea of quitting the cheer of Rivendell was not liked the messengers also had the honor for telling all of the elves that new life flowed in Rivendell. Indeed it was one of the highest of honors for an elf to have the ability to spread such words, for children were rare and thus any sign of a growing population was joyous. Thus six riders left on the swiftest horses to be found and each party of two left to give notice to Greenwood, Lothlórien, and the Havens.

The Havens had few inhabitants left who yet lingered on the shores of Middle-Earth and soon they too would follow the paths of other elves and sail in order to return to a land that they desired in their hearts. Being of Noldorian descent the elves of the Havens were openly polite about the news of a new elfling but slightly distant for the news had little relevance for those soon to leave the shores; and gave the messenger several gifts to take back to the child and her adoptive father. That messenger and his guard returned home with a letter for Elrond, and placed the gifts in his study, before returning the last few days of the celebrations.

The messengers and guards that travelled to Lothlórien and to the Greenwood were received quite differently than the messenger from the Havens, for these elves had yet to feel the strong tug of the sea's call and intended to remain on Middle Earth's shores for many years yet to come.

The second to arrive at his destination the messenger and his guard did little to conceal the joy that they felt at the news, though at that time the news born by both was nearly a month old. Such joy barely remained contained as the two were guided away from the borders by the Galadhrim, and when the Lord and Lady dismissed them two elves could not rest until all knew of the new life that grew within the safety of Imladris. Needless to say the daughter of the great Lord and Lady heard the news in such a way that made the young woman envious and it was not long before she met with her parents with great dismay and anger, claiming to have been used- for you see, she was much in love with Elrond and he had been courting her for many years. Her parents, joyous at the return of an old friend, laughed and teased their daughter for a time, after having righted the situation of course. When the messenger returned to his home he carried with him a small gift and a missive that, with Lord Elrond's permission, the Lord and Lady would be coming to attend the child's first begetting day, and with them would come their daughter. This news was received by Elrond with great, yet dignified, cheer.

The last messenger to arrive and return from his location was the one that had traveled to Greenwood, to deliver his message to King Oropher and Prince Thranduil. Unlike the other two messengers this ellon was a survivor of the war and remembered the closeness of the Lady Anarriel and that of his woodland kin; and although he was happy for the occasion the ellon and his guard comported themselves with great dignity and reserve, for many things had changed within the past years since the end of the war and even though the Alliance had changed some things; old blood feuds that had existed for more than an Age were hard to forget. The messenger delivered his news in private, watching the King and Prince's expressions. The older elf looked happy, as if the shadows he had borne after the war had been lifted. He offered his formal congratulations and sent the messenger back with gifts and a message similar to that of the Lord and Lady of Lórien, with the additional news that Thranduil's first child was to be born within coming year. When the messenger delivered his message to Elrond he also mentioned that the Prince's reaction appeared to be quite the opposite of his father.

In the months that had passed since the messengers' departure the child grew slowly but surely, maturing in mind faster than in body, which was normal for any elfling. By her six month, as winter settled heavily upon the valley, the young one was strong enough to sit up for long moments, before falling over in a heap of giggling. The first few times Elrond had watched worriedly, but now as he worked at his desk it was familiar enough that he would only glance up every now and then, to smile at Neyanna as she chewed on wooden blocks and kicked her chubby legs. By this time her hair had grown out to be a strange mixture of dark and light blondes, the two blending together so seamlessly that it sometimes appeared as though the child had a darkened curly halo about her head when she sat in the sunlight which was only further brightened by the white purity of the snow.

"And the Easterlings are permitted to wander about our lands and drink all our wine, specifically the best and oldest of our Dorwinion." Elrond jerked, shaken out of his reverie by the amused, yet sarcastic voice of his advisor Erestor.

"Forgive me my friend; it seems my mind as once again wandered."

"I hadn't notice my Lord." The amused, if somewhat exasperated, gaze of his advisor said everything beyond the words uttered out of politeness. The dark Noldor turned towards Neyanna's playing companion.

"Glorfindel, would you be so kind as to take little Neyanna away until the Lord has finished with his work?"

The blonde warrior looked up from the child, who just at the moment fallen atop his leg and was giggling, shock on his features. "Isn't that a little harsh Erestor?"

"If the Lord cannot complete his work yet again, then you and your sentries, as well as the warriors of Imladris will feel the brunt of the problems that we are attempting to fix on this very document."

Brushing of the brusqueness of the scribe Glorfindel turned blue eyes to the man whom he had sworn to protect, for it was not for Erestor that he had been given another life for. Elrond seemed to sigh in reluctance before nodding, "Forgive me my friend, but it seems that if I do not comply our dear scribe might just be exasperated enough to bring out his knives."

Erestor's face darkened for a moment before giving his lord a grim smile, "Or even worse forbid you from you sojourn in the Hall of Fire and your open mealtimes."

Glorfindel made a shocked face down at the child who was sitting up in silence, large eyes flickering back and forth between the adults, as though gauging the situation. Seeing the child's mind at work the tall warrior scooped the child up in his arms, and exited the room, firmly believing that she need not mature too fast.

The snow gave him an idea and the warrior quickly carried the girl back to her room where a maid were more than happy to do as he requested, while he went to fetch his cloak. Upon his return he found the baby dressed in warm winter clothes, complete with boots and warm mittens. Laiste grumbled in her limited and somewhat mushy Sindar, clearly uncomfortable in the strange and restrictive clothing but upon seeing her friend she grinned and bounced eagerly on the ground. With rushed thanks for the maid, Glorfindel grabbed the child and carried her out into the snow. Finding the way to the training ground was easy enough and he crouched on the ground and told the girl all about the white, cold, and welt stuff that coated the ground. For an hour or so the child was thrilled to play with the new stuff, but eventually grew hungry and tired and loudly informed him of her needs.

Acquiescing to her desires the ellon picked up the elfling and began the trek to the main house, only to stop when one of his riders cloaked in grey rode into sight or the main oath. His horse puffed deeply and fast and unknowingly Glorfindel, momentarily forgetting about the child in his arms as she had become very still and quiet. Recognizing of the rider brought immediate wariness as he remembered where the young warrior had been placed- at the eastern border that looked towards the mountains.

"What has happened?" The warrior called walking briskly above the snow as the warrior dismounted. The disquiet in the ellon's gaze disturbed the old warrior, "My lord..." he paused to catch his breath before standing straight and placing his hand over his heart in greeting, "The Lord and Lady of Lórien and a small contingent of the Galadhrim are on their way. They were a little past the borders when I left them, not long ago."

"Thank you- return to you post" The rider bid farewell to his leader and the young child before mounting a fresh horse and cantering easily off.

"Well," Blue eyes looked down to the child. "This will certainly keep us busy for a time!"

As he climbed the stairs Lord Elrond walked out to meet them, "My lord-"

"I am aware. Please take Neyanna to her room and then get ready, it would seem our brethren intend to stay for a time in our halls."

Two hours later the grand party that had travelled for many leagues rode through the main entrance of Imladris, on the first of what would be many visits and many Begetting days of celebration.


End file.
